


Enthusiasm

by Anonymous



Series: Trying New Things [1]
Category: The Roaring Trainers
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Coming Untouched, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 10:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18939385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Now, Sendoren, this can go one of two ways,” Wes offered, “Either I continue preparing myself or I help prepare you, because there is no way Atticus’ dick is going unattended to.”“Well shit, Wes, tell it like it is why don’t ‘ya.” Atticus scoffed.





	Enthusiasm

The entirety of Kanto held its breath, fast asleep with nothing but the static of a poorly tuned radio to break the silence. The midnight hours were tranquil compared to the typical urban bustle of the day. 

And there they were, splayed out and wanting, for no one but themselves. The only two beings that mattered. The two of them against the universe. Or Kanto, at the very least. Pewter City.. on a good day.

Atticus curled into Wes, pressing his head against Wes’ side and tracing the thin lilac bruises that wove in fractals across his abdomen.

“They don’t hurt anymore, you know.” Wes offered without opening his eyes.

Atticus looked up at Wes from his position lower on the bed, “Well, yeah, I just. I still feel bad.” 

Wes sighed. “Well, obviously I’ve forgiven you. If I didn’t, your dick wouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“Oh, so that’s how tonight is going to go?” The hint of a smirk peeked out from behind Atticus’ casual demeanor.

Wes shrugged, folding his hands behind his head as he settled in. “Haven’t decided yet. Perhaps, if you play your cards right.”

“Oh? And what cards would those be?” Atticus’ fingers wandered higher up Wes’ chest, slowly encircling pale skin and finally, a hardening nipple.

Wes shuddered involuntarily. “That one was a gimme.” 

Every touch came as a surprise, closing his eyes meant giving Atticus total control, a rare phenomenon for Wes.

Atticus went up on his elbow to hover over him, his closeness evident from the breath Wes could feel on his cheek. 

A palm pressed firmly into the front of Wes’ trousers, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “How ‘bout that one, was that the right card?” Atticus mumbled in Wes’ ear.

“You’re ridiculous,” Wes scoffed, tilting his head to meet Atticus’ mouth. Wriggling out of pants and boxers proved to be a more difficult feat than anticipated, but they managed between open-mouthed kisses and moans.

“For that, you don’t get to touch,” Wes pushed away from Atticus and twisted toward the nightstand.

Keeping a hand on Wes until absolutely forced to do otherwise, Atticus whined, “Fuckin’, come on, you know I hate that.”

“Next time, you won’t be so smug.” Wes intertwined his fingers with the hand still placed on his thigh, placed a soft kiss to the back of it, and Atticus withdrew. 

He watched, intoxicated, as Wes poured the oil he took from the nightstand over his fingers and let some haphazardly drip to his chest.

“That was on purpose,” Atticus said, sitting dejectedly at the far edge of the bed.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Wes smiled, pressing a single finger into himself with ease.

Atticus’ let out a breath he was unaware he was holding. “Can I at least jack off, if you’re gonna be like this?”

Wesley returned, with playful resentment, “If you must.”

With that, his eyes slipped closed once again and he pressed a second finger into himself. This process wouldn’t take long, but it was fun to tease the man he once thought incapable of being fazed.

It was at this moment, Wes far too concerned with himself and Atticus far too concerned with Wes, that the door creaked open. Neither processed the noise until a familiar voice piped up.

“Hey, Atticus, I was wondering if- oh!” Sendoren quickly threw a hand up in front of his eyes and stopped in his tracks. 

“I was just- Well I’ve been curious but- I mean I haven’t! It’s not like I’ve thought about- I just. I should go.” Sen stumbled over himself, reaching for the door without looking up.

Wesley, ever the improviser, quickly covered himself and a dumbfounded Atticus in the bed sheet before giving him a reassuring nod.

Atticus could do nothing but gawk, and Wes called out to Sen.

“Sendoren, well, firstly, we’re truly sorry you had to find out like this. We had been meaning to tell you, I assure you. But um.” Wes glanced at Atticus as if questioning whether or not to continue.

Atticus shook off his bewilderment and shrugged. It was up to Wes.

Sen turned scarlet.

Wes looked down at his hands for a beat before addressing Sen once again, “As long as you’re here, we’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

Sen squeaked in response, his brain working overtime to unravel the implications of Wes’ every word.

“Well, the three of us have been traveling together for quite some time, and obviously Atticus and I have been... Anyway, we were wondering, and I emphasize we..” Wes stalled, checking again for Atticus’ agreement. 

When he found a lazy smile in the crook of his neck, he had no choice but to continue, “If, perhaps, you might be interested in joining us. I figure, there’s no time like the present, or whatever.” 

Wes braced himself for the worst.

Sen’s hand fell from covering his face, but his gaze remained on the floor. An instant of panic swept the room as Sen inched towards the door.

A breath. The lock clicked and Sendoren turned to face them. 

The sheet slipped considerably as Wes squirmed, taking his familiar position at the head of the bed with a little hesitation. 

He gave Atticus a final look, as if to affirm that he was not the only one that had no idea what they were doing, but hell if they weren’t doing it, and turned to face Sen. 

In the thin streams of moonlight, Sendoren looked almost ethereal. A shockingly pure figure compared to the debauchery he stumbled into.

“You know you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, right? You don’t have to do anything at all- if you don’t want to.” Wes broke the fragile silence. 

If he had stopped to think for even a moment longer he’s sure he would have given up on the whole thing, packed his bags, and moved to the Johto region.

Sen nodded, hesitant to look either of the others in the eye.

“Well then. Whenever you’re ready?” An embarrassed smile crept onto Wes’ face in spite of himself. If they had gotten this far, he might as well enjoy himself. 

Sen turned decidedly away from Atticus’ intimidating figure and considered Wes for a moment. 

The sheet inched downward as Wes shifted, and Sen stretched out a tentative hand to ghost over the head of Wes’ exposed cock. 

Wary of scaring Sen away, Wes stifled a moan by biting his lip. 

Atticus was anything but jealous as a, “Well, fuck, Sen,” escaped in an exhale. 

Spurred on by what he took as a compliment, Sen enclosed his hand around Wes’ cock and gave a confident stroke. 

Wes’ poise betrayed him and he couldn’t help but whine as Sen’s pace quickened. In pure lust, he let out a breathy and wavering, “Sendoren.”

Sen looked Wes in the eye for the first time that night and began to close the endless distance between them.

He stuttered, “C-can I-“

“Certainly.”

They kissed as they battled, Wes calculated and knowing, Sen all passion and nativity, and Atticus’s breath hitched in his throat. 

How could he be to blame for snaking his hand between his legs when the two most beautiful people in Kanto were doing the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen right in front of him.

Eyelashes brushing cheeks and breath intertwining, Sen’s eyes flicked downward toward Wes’ lap. 

Before Wes had time to process that yes, God yes, of course, yes, Sen’s mouth was on him. Say what you will about the man, no one can deny his enthusiasm.

Wes took this moment, this flash between the present and what he could only imagine to be the rest of his life because why would he ever stop having sex with Sendoren Hously, to sneak a glance at Atticus. 

The panic bubbling in his chest that he had made a mistake was quickly swept away. Atticus, slack-jawed and absentmindedly stroking himself, had his eyes fixed on where Sen and Wes met. 

The very epitome of heaven splayed in front of him, Atticus couldn’t resist.

Just as he moved towards Sen in need of any kind of contact, Wes shuddered to his core and Sen left his cock with a needlessly obscene pop.

Sen pulled away to press his back to Atticus’ chest and slowly twisted to meet Atticus’ mouth. Atticus was struck by a familiar taste mixing with something so unmistakably Sen.

The small strip of skin revealed by the absurd angle at which Sen was contorted melted any remaining fear Wes had that any of what they were doing could be wrong.

“Get you out of these fuckin’- clothes, Sen.” Atticus broke their kiss and pulled frivolously at the hem of Sen’s shirt. 

Sen caught his breath, repositioning himself so that he was straddling Atticus’ lap before lifting the shirt off of himself in one motion.

Wes gave Sen no time to second guess or be ashamed, pressing his lips to where his now bare shoulder met the plane of his back.

Atticus’ hand cupped Sen’s face, gentle despite his callouses, and his mouth worked at Sen’s collarbone. 

Sendoren couldn’t help the nervous giggle that bubbled from his throat.

“You guys are- really good at this.” He stumbled when Atticus’ mouth found its way towards his exposed nipple.

Wes finished sucking what would be a sizable bruise tomorrow into Sen’s neck. “What can I say, I’ve… had a lot of practice?”

“Wes is a good teacher,” Atticus added, looking at Wes with hooded eyes over Sen’s shoulder.

Wes softened for a moment, placing a hand at the back of Atticus head and leaning in. Their lips met inches from Sen, and that was enough. The dread rose in his chest and everything felt heavy. 

Wes drew away from Atticus. “Sen, are you alright?”

“I- I- You guys just seem so connected and right for each other and I’ve ruined it! I butted in and I knew I shouldn’t have and- and-“ Sen scrambled towards the edge of a bed clearly much too small for three.

Atticus put a calming hand on his shoulder, “Sen, buddy, as far as I remember, we invited you.”

“Precisely. Sendoren, look at me,” Wes tucked a hand under his chin, “You haven’t ruined anything, I promise you.” Wes met Sen’s eyes and a pair of blown pupils looked back in a panic. “I would let you know if you did, and we’d try again. Everything is data, remember? Even this.”

How Wes could maintain his intellect with so little clothing and so, so much skin, Atticus would never be sure.

“Now, personally, I would love to continue, and from the looks of it,” Wes gave a quick glance to the undeniable bulge growing in Sen’s shorts, “you would too. Are you alright with that?”

Sendoren took a deep breath, another, and bit his lip. The words spilled out before he could convince himself to say otherwise. “I- yes, I am.”

“And, Atticus? You’re sure you’re alright with all this?” Wes turned his attention to the far end of the bed.

Atticus shook his head in disbelief, “You fuckin’ kidding me, Wes? Yeah, I’m alright.” 

“Now, Sendoren, this can go one of two ways,” Wes offered, “Either I continue preparing myself or I help prepare you, because there is no way Atticus’ dick is going unattended to.” 

“Well shit, Wes, tell it like it is why don’t ‘ya.” Atticus scoffed.

Wes ignored him, refusing to break eye contact with an ever-reddening Sendoren. “It’s truly up to you, there’s no wrong answer. Actually, I suppose you could also fuck me, I hadn’t considered that.” 

Wes looked Sen up and down as if assessing if he was up to the task. He shrugged. “Three ways this can go, then.”

Sen, shocked to silence by Wes’ sudden directness, took a selfish glance at Atticus. 

Uncertain of what he was and was not allowed to say or ask for, Sen mumbled, “I- I mean I would love- If it’s not- I think..”

“As I suspected.” Wes shot a glance at Atticus and added an, “I don’t blame you,” under his breath. 

Wes’ smugness had returned to him; after all, being the most experienced of the three of them granted him some room for arrogance, hadn’t it? “First thing’s first, these pants have got to go. Atticus?” 

Atticus quickly did as he was told and Wes leaned in, a hand returning to Sen’s chin. A slight tilt and their lips met once again, already familiar and grounding despite how little time they had passed since they began whatever this was.

As Wes kept Sen distracted, separating their kiss every so often to lap at the crook of his neck, Atticus’ hands worked deftly to remove his pants and slowly toy at the band of his briefs. 

Wes, ever a proponent of safety, added, “Stop us if you need to. For any reason. Understood?”

When a scarlet face, eyes hazy with lust, nodded fervently back at him, Wes let himself relax.

Seeing Wes’ relief, Atticus pressed his hand to the front of Sen’s briefs at the same moment that Wes’ mouth found his nipple. 

As Atticus removed Sen’s underwear, Sen’s hands flew to cover his face and he let out another nervous giggle.

“Uh, uh,” Wesley teased, gently pulling Sen’s hands away and replacing them with a teasingly chaste kiss. 

Atticus looked up at the two of them and, in a moment of pure instinct, cut in with, “Shit, Sen- Can I suck your dick?”

Sen broke his and Wes’ kiss with a squeak. “Uh, I.” Sen looked at Wes, asking for permission.

Wes smiled into Sen’s neck, planting slow kisses to his hummingbird heartbeat.

Sen’s eyes bore holes in the ceiling, his disbelief rising with each passing second, “Yes?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Atticus, not one for subtlety, took the head of Sen’s cock into his mouth without hesitation. Sen lurched forward in shock only to be met by Wes’ hand pressing into his chest. 

Atticus’ tongue swirled around where the head of his cock met the shaft and Sen felt as though whatever bound the universe together had come unraveled with Atticus’ mouth as its focal point. 

A whimper began to tremble at the edge of Sen’s lips, and Wesley did the only thing he could think of to ensure they weren’t going to be thrown out of the Pokemon Center for noise complaints.

Sen did all he could not to choke on the slender fingers Wes currently had shoved down his throat.

He couldn’t, however, stop his eyes from rolling closed and his back from arching when Atticus hollowed his cheeks and took what he couldn’t manage with his mouth in his hand.

Wes pressed his fingers further into Sen’s mouth in a sudden swell of sadism, and tears pricked at the corners of Sen’s eyes. But Sen wasn’t stupid, he understood what Wes wanted. 

He took a breath through his nose and sucked, rolling his tongue down each finger and letting the spit gather around them. Wes quickly settled into a rhythm and Sen could handle this. 

It only then occurred to Sen how absolutely decimated he must have looked in that moment, bright red, spit dripping from Wes’ fingers in strands down onto his face, tears pooling under his eyes. Irrevocably debauched.

Wes called to Atticus, who slowed his pace to finally pull off of Sen with a pop. 

And Sen thought he looked defiled. Atticus, hair sticking to his forehead, mouth red and puffy, spit dripping off his chin, and chest heaving with every breath, was positively filthy. 

Only Wes remained relatively composed, and once Atticus placed a hand at the side of his neck and leaned in for an open-mouthed kiss, his poise crumpled. 

He could play at power all he wanted, but Atticus towered over him, and even the one and only Wesley Hale would have stars in his eyes when Atticus was done with him.

Wes absentmindedly let his fingers fall from Sen’s mouth, allowing himself to go limp in Atticus’ grasp and relishing in the taste of Sen on Atticus’ tongue.

Sen, heaving and on the edge, assessed the scene in front of him. 

Atticus stroked Wes nonchalantly and Wes returned the favor as they lapped into each other's mouths, all of Wes’ moans swallowed in a sweep of Atticus’ tongue. 

Sen placed a trembling hand on himself. His head fell backward and he let out a soft moan. 

Wes pulled away from Atticus to look at Sen, and, with a haughty chuckle, chided, “Did you think we were finished?” 

“But- 'm so close,” Sen whined, shoulders tensed and desperation burning a pit in his stomach.

Atticus put a hand to Sen’s wrist, “Hey, easy, bud. We’ve got you.”

Wes brushed the hair out of his eyes and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, shaky in regaining his unaffected demeanor.

Sen’s pace slowed to a stop at Wes’ disapproval, and he let himself breathe. Upon opening his eyes, he realized that Atticus seemed to be in a similar predicament to himself.

“Do you- should I?” Sen gestured sheepishly to Atticus’ dick, straining and beading with want.

Atticus’ voice came out in a hoarse whisper, the closest to shy Sen had ever heard him. “I was uh, waiting for you.” He chuckled and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck in what bordered on embarrassment.

The understanding of the culmination of the night Atticus had in mind hit Sendoren all at once and left him a little winded. “Oh,” he said, the gears turning in his mind, “right.” 

“Right then, if everyone is still on board..” Wes looked eagerly between Sen and Atticus for any kind of sign that he was allowed to proceed. 

When no objection was voiced, he continued.

“Now, Sendoren, this will be easiest if you can relax.” Wes deftly returned to his authoritative role. “I’ll do my best to make it enjoyable, but, for the most part, you’re just going to have to trust me. Can you do that?” 

Sen nodded, perhaps the most self-assured he had been all night.

On Wes’ command, he shifted himself to the head of the bed, with Atticus by his side and Wes between his legs. 

“Oh, and, please remember to breathe. Everyone always forgets to breathe.” Wes added, from a place of genuine concern.

As Wes slowly pressed one oil and spit-slick finger to Sen’s entrance, Atticus touched a hand to the side of his neck, guiding him into a kiss as a distraction. Sen exhaled in surprise and narrowed his focus towards Atticus as much as he could manage.

By the time Wes felt comfortable enough with one finger to add a second, Sen was gripping at Atticus’ bicep in equal parts discomfort and desperation, and he pressed his forehead against Atticus’.

Atticus drew his eyes up from admiring Wes’ work to meet Sen’s gaze. “Holy shit.”

Sen’s heart burned in his chest. “W- what? What’s wrong?”

Atticus chuckled, “No. You’re fucking beautiful, Sen.”

In a strange kind of cosmic serendipity, Wesley thrust his fingers deep into Sen, and seismic waves of pleasure pulsed through him. He wrenched his head back, mouth open in a silent cry, and Atticus sucked a bruise into the crook of his neck, rolling one of Sen’s nipples between his fingers. 

Sendoren was absolutely convinced, in that split second, that he had died, and whatever was on the other side of this world felt a lot like Atticus’ ungodly tongue and Wes’ sinful fingers.

The edges of his vision turned white and Wes quickly gripped the base of his cock to keep him from coming.

A pitiful noise tore into the silence, more than a broken moan but not quite a sob.

Sen had never needed anything so badly in his life. 

Wes, wide-eyed and short of breath, gently removed his fingers from inside Sen before slowly letting go of his grip on Sen’s cock.

He wiped his hand haphazardly on the bedsheet and shot a nervous glance at Atticus. “I, uh, think he’s ready.”

Sendoren’s labored breathing filled the room as Atticus slowed his motions to a halt and shifted to drag soothing fingers through Sen’s hair. 

Sen whined and writhed beneath him.

“Shh, Sen it’s okay. You did such a good job, Sen. Such a good job.”

Wes, usually less good at the calming down than he was at the riling up, offered, “You don’t have to do anything more. If you don’t want to. We can help you finish, and then you can be done. Whatever you want.” 

Sen, barely coming to his senses, found the idea of stopping positively abhorrent. “No! No, I’m okay, I just.. Got really close there for a second. I’m okay.”

Wes looked warily down at him, “No, it’s alright, Sendoren, truly. We have all the time in the world. We can be done for now.”

Sen, frustrated at the implication that he would leave Atticus and Wes hanging like that, looked to Wes to clarify, “No. I want to.”

“I- I don’t know, Sendoren, you were pretty out of it,” Atticus responded gently.

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” Sen’s tone grew increasingly desperate, and he shifted his gaze to Atticus. “I want you to fuck me.”

Atticus grew hot, breath faltering as he let out, “Well, fuck, Sen.” He looked to Wes, suddenly ashamed. 

Wes took his place at the head of the bed next to Sen and, with only lust in his voice, added a pointed, “You heard him.” 

Atticus, shocked at suddenly being the center of attention, muttered, “Fuckin’ eh. Uh.” Shaking himself out of his stupor, he added, “Shit, then, on all fours.”

Sen obliged with no hesitation, and Wes set his eyes on Atticus.

Atticus aligned himself at Sen’s entrance with a spit-slick hand, and the room held its breath. 

Sen whined, eyes closed, as Atticus slowly pushed himself in until his whole body was flush with Sen's back. He waited a beat, and Sen nodded. 

Atticus pulled almost all the way out only to bury himself completely, and Sen let out a muffled cry. Atticus found a rhythm, and Sen was left moaning and rolling his hips back with every move.

Wes let out a breathless whine as he pressed a hand to himself. 

Sen arched his back at a particularly deep thrust, and Atticus took the opportunity to place his arm against Sen’s chest, holding him upright. 

The new angle made Sendoren whimper and throw his head back over Atticus’ shoulder. 

Atticus towered over Sen, railing into him, manhandling him like he was nothing, and Wes pressed a finger into himself. 

Atticus looked up from his position sucking at the crook of Sen’s neck and shook his head. “Uh uh, come here.”

He grabbed Wes by the ankle and pulled him toward them. 

He shifted his grip on Sen, bracing him with his arm and softly wrapping his hand around Sen’s throat to hold his position. 

Atticus held his free hand out to Wes, who eagerly rolled his tongue around two fingers. 

Atticus slowed his pace, shifting Sen slightly, and pressed a finger into Wes in the process. 

Sen took a moment to glance down and nearly came on the spot. 

Wes lay, legs spread, eyes closed, and head thrown back in pleasure, as Atticus thrust a finger into him. Wes’ hips rolled in time with Atticus, lazily stroking himself as Atticus added another finger. 

When Atticus noticed Sen’s attention on Wes, he pulled his hips back and rolled them forward, thrusting deep and hard without warning. 

Sen would’ve been thrown forward, if not for Atticus’ hand at his throat. 

The pressure on his windpipe and Atticus’ unrelenting pace threatened to push Sen over the edge. 

He reached the hand previously clutching Atticus' forearm to stroke himself, in need of any kind of friction. 

Atticus got a look in his eye that was usually saved for dangerously unpredictable ideas.

Wes nodded at him to follow the urge.

Atticus’ tone shifted, voice deep and scratchy with nerves, “Sen, stop.”

Sen buried his face into Atticus neck in shame but stopped his hand nonetheless. “But, I- I'm close.” His voice broke into a whine when Atticus hit the same spot inside him Wes had found just minutes ago. 

Sen trembled with need and Wes groaned.

“I know, Sen, I know. Do this for me.” Atticus whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Sen’s head. 

Atticus thrust a third finger into Wes who, stroking himself furiously now, was reduced to nothing but rolling his hips and soft mewling. 

Sen whined into Atticus’ neck, searching for relief with each thrust. 

Atticus pressed his hand a little harder to his throat and Sen burned white hot and bright.

His breath hitched with every movement. Atticus whispered, “Come on, Sen. Come for me,” and that was it. 

His vision blurred and tears stung in his eyes. His hands flew to his mouth to stifle the sobs that bubbled in broken pieces as he came hard and fast across his stomach.

Atticus let out a moan, thrusting once more, twice, and he was coming. He let go of Sen’s throat and leaned down to kiss Wes, open-mouthed and sloppy. 

Atticus thrust his fingers into him a few more times before Wes came in his own silent cry. Wes trembled and Sen heaved next to him. Atticus pulled gently out of Sen, leaving him softly keening. 

Heavy breathing filled the room for an eternity before Wes finally broke the silence. “Well, holy shit.”

Sen’s breathing slowed and he opened his eyes, bracing himself with his hands on his knees, “Agreed.” 

“Fuck guys, what are we doing?” Atticus added, surprisingly coherent for what just happened. 

Wes sat up, wiping the spit from his mouth. “A lot more of that, hopefully.”

Sen smiled softly, reaching out towards Wes for a long and languid kiss. “Agreed.”

Wes gave Atticus a similarly lazy kiss. “And you?”

“Fuckin’, agreed,” Atticus responded, shaken. 

“Well then,” a playful smile played at the corners of Wes’ lips, “another round?”


End file.
